Chapter Nine
Duncan ran behind the men from Rideaux’s compound, watching with horror as they stripped off unnecessary clothing, pulling knives and war axes from their belts. It had begun. There would be no treaty, no saving Skanawati. The Frenchman sprinted past, carrying bandages, murmuring what could have been a frantic prayer. The men ahead of them reached a low rise above one of the wide fields, and with a collective cry the Indians leapt to the fray. Tewaarathon! Rideaux had shouted. War!
Duncan checked the powder in his frizzen pan, saw Hadley and Van Grut do the same as they arrived panting at his side, then looked to the field in confusion. The Indians who had been with him were not charging into the melee below but instead were running toward a group of women and children at one
